Innocence
by Komodai
Summary: Loosely based around Phoenix Wright, just with a different set of characters. Hopefully the similarities will become more apparent the more I write.
1. Guilty

**Innocence**

**Chapter 1 - Guilty**

_"Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!"_

The cries of the jury rang in their ears.

"I'm sorry, Nick... I couldn't do anything to rescue you..." Phoenix said with a melancholy tone.

Nick said nothing. His head was held in his hands, knowing his life was about to be cut short. A single tear ran down his cheek, a glistening trail in its wake.

"I will now pass down my verdict. On the charge of murder, we find the defendant... GUILTY!"

"NO, I'M INNOCENT! I DIDN'T KILL ANYONE!! I DIDN- Wha...?"

Nick's eyes jolted open as the bailiff was dragging him to his doom. He stared at the walls surrounding him, covered in cobwebs and posters. Slits of red, exposed wall could be seen in the sickly moonlight creeping through the room. Nick sighed. Maybe his friends were right, maybe he had been playing his DS too much. Either way he wasn't going to be deterred from his late-night solo gaming sessions. He clicked the silver brick open. Just one more trial and he would finish this case...

Nick woke up with a sleeping animal on his chest. He observed its furry chest rising and falling, a contented look painted across its unaware face as it basked in the sunlight.

"C'mon Link, get off..."

The cat fell onto the floor in an undignified manner, letting out a disgruntled meow before stalking off to the kitchen and giving its owner the cold shoulder. Nick slowly shed the padded cotton cocoon that surrounded him, brushing against his skin and providing him with warmth over the cold nights. He sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if he was supposed to be doing anything at this point. The alarm clock read 2:14PM.

"Damn." He cursed inwardly. This was the 3rd time this week he had slept in for university.

"MEEEeeeeoooow...!" Link yelled, a furry face glaring at Nick and demanding food.

**End of chapter 1**


	2. Accusations

**Chapter 2 - Accusations**

The man in the mirror stared back at Nick, accusing him of being the cause of all his problems. He shifted in and out of focus, grimacing with each change. 'Why, why did he have to cause us such pain?' Finally, one man came up with a solution: a black wire frame holding two concave pieces of shaped glass. As Nick placed these glasses over his emerald-coloured eyes, so did the man opposing him.

"Try copying someone else for a change," they smiled. Nick straightened his deep blue hair into his usual sweep-fringe and inwards flick affair before applying a modest amount of eye-liner to his eyes to contrast with his paper-white skin (although he would always claim that it was his glasses that gave his eyes this impression). He turned to admire his high-maintenance visage - perfect as always. As he left the room, his double chose to depart simultaneously. In unison, a thought ran through their minds: 'We'll meet again. I'm sure of it.'

The towering gates of Azure University were open, but the grounds were deserted. Nick checked his watch.

"3:27PM - hopefully everyone should still be in a mass lecture right now." He panted. Drained, he ran through the near-endless network of corridors leading to the conference room where everyone should be. Lost in though about what his excuse for being late was going to be this time, he was brought back to reality around the same time his face was brought to the ground. His glasses were chipped, but aside from that, he remained relatively unharmed. As he turned around to see what had made him fall, he was paralysed by the sight his eyes met. A body lay on the ground covered in bloody gashes, its face mutilated beyond all recognition.

Nick's brain was running on instinct - he had almost no control over his actions by this point. He frantically tried to get a reaction from the person lying on the ground in a growing sanguine pool. The cadaver's gaze remained glazed, its expression of agony and terror etched into its face unchangeable. Nick's attention was drawn to an ornate knife lying where the body originally was, its blade crimson with proof of the sinful deed it had carried out. Without thinking of the consequences, Nick held it up to the light and read the inscription on the edge of the blade:

_"The truth is never painless."_

Nick's reflection on the matter was shattered by screams piercing the air.

_"Oh God, what is he doing?!"_

_"Nick, what have you done?!!"_

_"What the hell are you thinking!?!"_

_"Quick, call someone! Anyone!!"_

**End of chapter 2**


	3. Suspect

**Chapter 3 - Suspect**

Nick fled the scene before he could face any more of these accusations. Burning tears streaked down his face from behind his glasses, his eye-liner running in tangent and obscuring his vision. He had no idea of his destination - his mind was already fully occupied by the thought of refuge. How had he ended up like this? His fury only made him flee faster, his emotions welling up from deep within his soul.

Asphyxiation would have claimed Nick's life had he not stopped to rest. He hung from the branches of a tree, too exhausted and weak to haul himself the rest of the way up. He was left with only the company of the dying leaves and his own thoughts. What had he done to deserve this? His eyes were scarlet; they had no tears left to weep. He screamed into the chilling air, his anger overriding his fatigue.

"Why, why...!?"

------------------------------------------------

Two men joined the growing crowd outside the electronics shop. One was tall and muscular with a shredded pair of black jeans. He was wearing a t-shirt that looked like it might have once been green under a long black leather jacket reaching down to a chunky pair of grey boots. He wore shades as black as his hair, hiding his identity with a veil of anonymity. The other was shorter in comparison, but still tall by most people's standards - 5' 10" at least. He was dressed in a black suit with a red tie, exuding a formal, yet intimidating aura. His emasciated face was also framed by sunglasses - stainless steel frames, the most professional and expensive in the range. The light from the television in the window deepened the shadows in their faces. A wave of unease started to wash over the crowd as the news report was resumed.

_"Updates on our main news bulletin: the victim of the Azure University has now been identified as Miles Anderson, a beloved member of the university well noted for his contributions to the community. Nicholas Black, a fellow student at Azure University, has been named as the main suspect for the murder. Rewards of considerable value have been offered for his capture or information of his whereabouts. Our next report is about a new..."_

"Ready for some hunting?" leered the shorter of the two men.

**End of chapter 3 **


	4. Of Past Times

**Chapter 4 - Of Past Times**

A broken man by the name of Nick Black lay in an alleyway, isolated from all around him. His life had been reduced to this in just three days for a crime he didn't commit. The media (or the papers that blew into the alleyway, at least) seemed all too willing to sentence him to his doom without trial. He suspected that the public would follow suit and believe this lie. True, it seemed to be a solid enough argument against him, but he was sure there would be a flaw in there somewhere. Somehow, justice would prevail.

Nick thought he felt his hair get a little spikier.

-------------------------------

Two men stalked through a deserted street in a rough part of town.

"So who we lookin' for?" asked the taller man.

"Drake, I've already told you several times. We are pursuing a young man by the name of Nick Black. He appears to be one of those gothic types. Disgusting, wouldn't you agree?"

"Er... yeah. Sure Mike."

"You will address me as 'Mr. Darke' or 'sir'. That was part of the agreement."

"Sorry, sir."

-------------------------------

As sleep became too tempting to resist, Nick covered himself in the newspaper he was reading. He drank down the last of the vodka in the bottle that he held, his only friend. The whole nation was against him and yet he lay among them, drunk in a godforsaken alleyway. His vision blurred, slowly fading out to black.

As Nick started to dream, he found himself looking at a classroom in Azure University. He was also watching himself and Miles Anderson having a conversation, smiling and laughing.

"Give it up, Nick, you'll never get me to help you with your essay. It's due in tomorrow!"

"But Miles, I'll fail this course for sure if it's not done!"

"Well, that's your problem, isn't it?"

"Heh, you haven't changed a bit over the years, Miles."

"No, I guess I haven't. But at least I haven't changed my habits to be like yours - I still have my girlfriend."

"That was harsh... It wasn't my fault things went like that..."

Nick watched himself break down into tears, unable to resist.

"Am.. Amber..."

Miles wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulder. He knew Nick was still in agony over that incident. He couldn't tell him the truth, not while he had kept it hidden for all this time.

-------------------------------

The night sky was covered by dark clouds, rain pouring onto the city below. As the storm became more intense, Nick was summoned back to reality. He felt something pressing against his head, cold and vaguely disturbing. He dared to open his eyes. A gun was pressed to his head, wielded by a man in a long leather jacket. He leered, showing his forked tongue and sharp teeth filed to points.

"Ready to be brought to justice?"

**End of chapter 4 **


	5. Life and Death

**Chapter 5 - Life And Death**

A gunshot followed by a piercing scream rang out from the alleyway. Two men lay motionless on the ground, one polluting the water in which he lay with blood.

"Shit... What have I done...?!"

A slim figure in a long, flowing purple coat ran from the two still figures to the nearest payphone.

"Th-there's two people lying in an alley... I-I.. I don't know how much time we have..."

------------------------

Nick saw himself slumped against the wall, half-sitting, half-lying. The water that surrounded him was a vivid red. Blood.. So much blood...

A man in a black coat lay on the ground a short distance from him. He held a pistol in his left hand and had a knife strapped to his belt. Glass shards surrounded him, gathering rain in the ongoing downpour.

A figure in a purple coat stood over the two of them, crying at the sight of the scene laid out before it. Nick walked over the two bodies and observed the figure more closely. A young woman hiding behind long pink hair stared straight past him through tearful eyes. Nick could no longer contain his thoughts.

"Excuse me, but what the hell am I doing watching myself bleeding to death?!"

The lady continued to be unaware of his existence. Nick felt all of his emotions drain away, replaced by emptiness. Was he... dead?

The rain continued to fall, passing through Nick and denying him the pleasure of feeling anything.

------------------------

Nick's eyes jolted open as his body was subjected to large amounts of electricity. Machinery surrounded him where he lay, people tending to them as if it was a matter of life and death. Needles were stuck in his skin, wires surrounding him completely.

"If we don't get it out of there, he'll die for sure!"

"I told you, he's no longer sedated, it wou-"

"Well get him back under anaesthetic, he can't die because of your mistakes!"

A silhouette against the bright light placed a mask over Nick's face. He tried to resist, but he didn't have the strength. His vision faded out to black, to eternal darkness.

------------------------

"Sir, Drake has failed in his mission to capture Black."

Darke continued to stare at the chrome sphere on his desk. The back of his chair still faced the bearer of bad news.

"...I see. Has his sphere broken?"

"We believe it has, sir."

"..Very well. You may leave."

As the worker left, Darke removed his black glasses. A look of frustration and anguish crossed his amber eyes.

**End of chapter 5 **


	6. Unexplained

**Chapter 6 - Unexplained**

Miles walked along the corridor with the vision of that day in his mind. Why did he have to inflict this on himself? He wept inwardly. Nick was going through a far worse pain that he was... In a sense. His cowardice was all that kept him from breaking down the barriers between himself and Nick - why should he tell him the truth when it would only destroy all that he had remaining? He felt an icy chill freeze him over, defying the summer sun that shone on him.

"Hey Miles, you okay?"

"I'm fine... I'm just tired," he lied.

---------------------------

The fuzzy shapes in the room started to come into focus as Nick returned to reality. A pink-haired figure stood over him, holding a bag of grapes. He mumbled a sign of recognition to her.

"Finally! We expected you to be out for a while, but 4 days? Talk about taking advantage..."

Nick finally found enough strength to talk.

"...What are you talking about...?" he sighed groggily.

"You got shot by some guy in an alleyway. The bullet hit you in the chest, a few inches away from your heart, but it looked like he was aiming for the head. You got lucky with me finding you in time before you bled dry - they said you were so close to death they could see you slipping away..."

"Closer than you could ever believe..." Nick muttered to himself.

"Sorry?"

"N-Nothing. Who are you, anyway?"

"Me? I'm Clarissa, Clarissa White. I'm your assigned attorney for the trial once you're up and walking." What remained of Nick's happiness drained away. He had completely forgotten about the murder trial he would have to face.

"It appears that the man who tried killing you isn't around to tell us his motive, but I can't help feeling uneasy about his demise... He was in stable condition when they brought him in, but then his body just gave up - it was as if he had lost the will to live..." Clarissa's face looked truly disturbed. Here she was talking to the man she would have to defend in court and already she was wrapped up in something nobody could explain.

"Anyway, you try to get some rest. I'll be back whe--"

She was interrupted by a panicked shriek.

_"Doctor Razura! 5 patients in ward 7 have dropped dead! What the hell do we do?!!"_

**End of chapter 6 **


	7. Suffering

**Chapter 7 - Suffering**

Razura hurried towards the ill-fated ward 7. As he ran through the labyrinth of corridors, he could only focus his mind on one thought: five people have just died in a ward in his charge. His medical career would be over if that damned Morton had his way.

He was too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice Clarissa following behind him. She wasn't going until she had found out what was going on and why - obstinacy was a trait that came with the territory of being a defence attorney.

--------------------------

Darke sat in his chair, the light from a small collection of orbs set on the table etching deep crevices in his face. He picked up a particular sphere from the centre of the collection. It radiated a soft, emerald-green aura - beautiful, yet vaguely unsettling.

A slamming door broke his zen-like state.

"Sir, White has taken up the case of Nicholas Black. Are you su-" Darke raised his hand, the back of the chair still facing the unfortunate employee. He paused, staring down at the green glass orb in his hand.

"...I see. Are you questioning my judgement on this?" he queried, coldly.

"N-N-No, of course I'm not... I... I just-"

"I am growing tired of your stuttering and stumbling, follower. I happen to have your sphere right here in my grasp. Unless you can dig yourself out of this rather deep grave you have excavated within the next 15 seconds, I may be tempted to break it."

The worker stood in the doorway, shaking. His vision was already fading.

"You... You're not serious?"

"I hold your very soul, your life essence in my hands. I assure you I am most serious. Four seconds left."

"I.. I can't take any more of your-"

"And I can't take any more of your pathetic efforts." Darke extended his arm to the edge of the desk at which he sat. Almost casually, he dropped the sphere on the floor. Shards glittered in the dim light of the room, unrecognisable as the object of beauty that it once was. The worker looked on in horror. He had just watched his ties to this world shatter. His breath was running short. Fire ravaged his chest as he felt it fill with liquid. He clutched his sides, screaming in agony, pleading his master to end this torture. The cries only stopped once the man lay on the floor, surrendered to the inevitable. Suffering was carved into his face, his rest far from peaceful.

Darke remained emotionless, watching a delicate white orb on the table in front of him.

**End of chapter 7 **


	8. Clarissa

**Chapter 8 - Clarissa**

An imposing figure blocked the doorway into ward 7. Like everyone else in the room beyond, it wore a scuffed off-white rubber suit with black gloves and boots, its face obscured by a helmet fitted with a gas mask.

"This scene is off-limits - I can't just let you walk in without a pass, buddy!" Clarissa was taken aback by the voice - she had expected it to sound more brutal and dominant to match the figure's stature.

"Um... Well, one of the patients involved is related to the case of my cli-"

"Do you have any proof? I told you, I just can't let you go through without confirmation!"

"Is this proof enough?" Clarissa said as she flashed her defence attorney's badge proudly. The titan answered by reaching towards a stun gun in a holster by its waist. Clarissa backed away with her hands raised.

"Hey, hey...! Fine, I'll go and get confirmation for you, just put the stun gun down..."

------------------------

After having two luckless subordinates dispose of the corpse lying beside the shattered glass at his office door, Darke continued to observe the glass of white wine in the elegant glass he held. The news brought by the recently deceased messenger was indeed a setback to his plans. His apprentice was dead because of that infernal Nicholas Black and now one of the best defence attorneys in the state was about to snatch away his chance of revenge.

"White..."

He crushed the ornate glass he held in his hand with remarkable ease. Shards cut into his hand, blood seeping onto the floor with the wine.

"I can't let you go now, Clarissa. You still have a great debt to pay on behalf of those two..."

------------------------

Nick lay in his bed, absent-mindedly downing yet another cup of medicine he had been given. Blood poisoning was not the greatest of his worries at that time.

His thoughts drifted back towards the trial that awaited him. He had been granted the services of Clarissa White, an exceptionally talented defence attorney. Nick knew he should be thankful, but he couldn't help one question staying in his mind: Why had she chosen him over anyone else that needed her help? Even someone with her skill couldn't prove him innocent with these circumstances.

His pessimism was interrupted by another dose of pills being handed to him.

**End of chapter 8 **


	9. Love

**Chapter 9 - Love**

After a long quest to retrieve the papers that wouldn't be out of place in a mediocre adventure game, Clarissa gained permission to enter ward 7. Instantly, she blended into the society of detectives, clad in the protective suit worn by all.

Not sure what she should be looking for, Clarissa searched around the room for anything that might help her case. It struck her to first look by Drake's bed for anything that might give her a lead to work on. His corpse lay in the bed, his glazed blue eyes staring at the dusty ceiling tiles. Dying crimson flowers were in a spherical vase by his bed, matching the current colour of the once white sheets. A large label covered in ornate writing was tied around the sphere:

_"Cherished Drake, my loyal apprentice._

_Treasured is the time that we have on this world,_

_Never waste a moment -_

_Few are the achievements and memories of those that do._

_Eternally following the righteous path,_

_In death, may you find peace."_

Clarissa turned the label over.

_"6 3 4 5 1 2"_

Not managing to understand the message on the note, Clarissa requested to see Drake's clothing that had been kept and a record of his injuries. As the detective left, Clarissa distanced herself from her investigation for a moment and looked at the scene. Five innocent people here had lost their lives for no reason other than they shared a ward with someone linked to this case. Flowers, cards and other gifts from their families who believed they would be home soon lay beside them, in their beds, on their bedside tables.

A small tear ran down the visor of Clarissa's helmet.

-----------------------------

Miles ran towards a tall building made of weathered stones, the sun setting as he got closer. He looked behind his shoulder. Finally, he had lost Nick - he couldn't have him ruining his date, constantly talking and generally trying to persuade Amber to date him instead. No, he wouldn't have his heart broken, not again.

As he ran up the tall, winding staircase, he retrieved the present for Amber from his bag. He took a small model dragon from the ripped side pocket. Its ruby eyes glinted in the low light of the hall, sharp silver talons covered in small shreds of black canvas. Miles sighed. That would be yet another present that had ruined his long-suffering messenger bag.

Gingerly, he knocked on the door. They had been going out for three months now, but Miles was nervous all the same. What if she rejected him? What if he went too far past her comfort zone? What if she really liked Nick better th-

"Hey there, Miles!" Amber had opened the door while Miles was drowning in his fears. She looked beautiful as always - dressed in black, her brown hair draped over her left eye like always. Again, Miles found himself lost for words.

"H-h... Hi... A-Amber..." He was shaking, again. Amber smiled back at him. She ran towards him, gripping him tightly in her arms.

"Are you nervous again? I'm not that bad, surely...?" Miles tried to find words to suit how he felt.

"No... You're better than I deserve..."

"You're always so gentle. I couldn't have anyone better," Amber whispered. She sounded as if she really meant it.

**End of chapter 9**


	10. Virus

**Chapter 10 - Virus**

Clarissa observed the hospital records of those who had died in ward 7. There was nothing linking them together other than the fact that they all died within an hour of each other as a result of irreparable and fatal damage to various internal organs. The fault couldn't be with any of the hospital resources - none of the other wards had been affected. The only option she could think of was a viral infection, but where did it come from and why did it only affect this ward?

A forensics assistant approached Clarissa with various objects in plastic bags.

"You're the lawyer for Nicholas Black, right?"

"Yes, that would be me."

"Ah, finally. You have no idea how difficult it is to identify people in these suits... Anyway, we have some evidence we were meant to give you a while ago. Take what you can back to your office and we'll give the rest to you later." The assistant sounded all too happy to have the collection given to someone else to look after.

-------------------------

Miles lay in bed, watching the soft glow of the morning light paint the city a shining gold. Amber lay next to him, breathing softly. He smiled. He could have wished for nothing more at this point.

"Miles..." Amber turned to stare him in the face.

"What is it, my dear?"

"Have you ever felt like you want something more in life? Like you have everything you wanted buy you get... well... bored of it?" Paranoia set into Miles' mind again, refusing to let go.

"...What do you mean? What am I doing wrong...?"

"It's not you, it's my life in general. What I'm trying to say is that I'm going away for a few weeks to sort out my thoughts. I don't know where I'm going, I don't know when I'll be back, all I know is that I will return someday." Miles put his arms around Amber's slim figure.

"And I'll be waiting for you when you do," he whispered. Amber laughed.

"You can be so cheesy sometimes."

-------------------------

Darke stalked through the corridors of his company headquarters, Sunlight Pharmaceuticals. The newspaper he held could destroy his reputation, taking his very life down with it. That fool of an executive would pay for his stupidity.

The door crashed open as Darke prepared to direct his fury at the executive.

"MARSHALL!" The executive hurriedly stubbed out the cigarette in his hand.

"D-Darke... I have to say I wasn't expec-"

"What is the meaning of this?!" Darke threw the half-folded newspaper at the executive's desk. Marshall looked at the article:

"5 dead at Minerva Hospital

5 patients at the Intensive care unit in Minerva Hospital died yesterday in mysterious circumstances. Forensics suspect a viral infection, but have no conclusive evidence. The victims were linked only by..."

"You sent one of those 'infect' tags, didn't you, Steven Marshall?"

"I only wanted to see if the virus would work as well as we said it would. After all, we need more cadavers for our research, do we not?" Darke glared at him.

"We can find more 'cadavers' in any backstreet gutter, Marshall. I gave you a second chance at life and you repay me by blowing our cover?" Darke paused. "You sicken me. I feel tempted to break your sphere, drain your life force and-"

"Don't give me any of that crap, Michael!" Marshall appeared shocked at his own outburst. He quickly resumed his usual calm manner. "You know it's all a sham, this 'life-force' shit. Even if you were to break 'my' sphere, you would kill yourself as well. To kill me would be suicide." Darke stood silently by Marshall's desk.

"I don't think you have fully considered what I could do with the results I have gained from our experiments. Don't think that I share everything with my closer subordinates." Darke began to walk towards the door. "Don't screw up again, Marshall. You may encounter a fate worse than having your sphere broken if you do."

As the door closed, Marshall lit up another cigarette to calm his nerves. His hands were shaking uncontrollably.

**End chapter 10 **


	11. Realisations

**Chapter 11 - Realisations**

A week had passed since Amber had told Miles of her 'holiday' plans. She walked out onto the balcony of her apartment, watching the sun fall behind the horizon, leaving a fiery trail in the sky as it set. She held the glass of red wine up to the blazing sunset. It looked as though the sunset had melted and gathered in her glass, colours mixing and sparkling when it moved. As she looked at the mountains silhouetted against the horizon, she wondered where she would tell Miles she had been. Or indeed if she could convince him after what she planned to do. A sardonic grin crossed Amber's face. He was so paranoid about losing her, he would believe anything, the trusting fool.

She walked over to the phone. 7 days should be long enough to be realistic. She drank more of the wine to steady her nerves - her hands were shaking as she picked up the receiver. Carefully, she pressed the numbers on the keypad. For what seemed like an eternity, the phone of the other end rang out, begging the owner to answer. That familiar confused voice answered:

"Hello?" Amber allowed her voice to take on a depressed tone.

"Hey, Nick? Me and Miles have split up..."

"Seriously? You two seemed so close... I thought Miles said you were just going away for a while?"

"He did? That's typical of him. He dumped me and doesn't want people to know what he did, I guess. Could you come over tonight? I could really use someone to talk to."

----------------------------

Clarissa had set out all the evidence she had received on the desk in front of her. She had checked them all over several times, but nothing belonging to Nick's attacker appeared to have any connection to the case of Miles Anderson's murder. The autopsy report stated that Miles died from a single stab to the back of the head, killing him almost instantly. The other gashes, although they looked horrific, were made after he had died. From the picture, it looked almost as though the killer hated the victim so much that they felt killing him didn't go far enough for them. Yet Nick had said that Miles was his best friend. Surely he couldn't look her in the eye and say that if he was lying...?

Clarissa sighed. The chill late autumn air was invading the room through the cracked window. As much as she liked being famous, that didn't bring in the money she needed to keep the room maintained. She couldn't think like this. As she stood up to get her coat, a label fell to the ground from the desk. It was the same label earlier from the vase of flowers in ward 7. She turned the label over, forgetting the cold air lowering the temperature of the room. It suddenly clicked in her head: six numbers, six lines. Arranged in the order written on the back:

_In death, may you find peace._

_Never waste a moment -_

_Few are the achievements and memories of those that do._

_Eternally following the righteous path,_

_Cherished Drake, my loyal apprentice._

_Treasured is the time that we have on this world,_

Clarissa let a smile play across her face. Hurriedly pulling on her coat, she ran to the forensics still at ward 7. This may be all the evidence they need to back up their viral infection theory.

----------------------------

Razura paced up and down his office, trying to think of how this situation could turn out. He ran his hand through his unruly white hair. The death of five patients in his ward, one involved in a high-profile murder case, no less... Hopefully he wouldn't be brought in for questioning about this. What control would he have over his words? Would he accidentally say more than he wanted to reveal? Maybe it wouldn't happen. Maybe he would be okay. Maybe he could go back to his normal life after this was all dead and buried. The picture frame on his desk caught his eye. No, he could never return to how he once lived...

"Amber..."

**End of chapter 11**


	12. Diary

**Chapter 12 - Diary**

The investigation team had migrated to Miles Anderson's house hoping to find evidence related to the case. The last investigation in ward 7 had only given them the 'infect' tag, but this seemed to bear no relation to Miles' death whatsoever - it only cleared Nicholas Black's name of another murder. Clarissa White was also a part of this investigation with permission from the chief of detectives.

Looking through Miles' desk, Clarissa could only find a few objects of vague interest in the mountain of clutter that was strewn across it. Pencils, action figures, empty bottles... How often did this guy clean out his room...?

A beaten-up notebook fell onto the floor as Clarissa was trying to excavate anything of interest from the desk. A detective looked around as she picked it up, but she hid it in her pocket until he went back to his search. Tentatively, she opened it up to look at the contents. It looked to be a diary kept since... 2nd June 2014?

"What an odd date to start a diary..." She skimmed through the pages, looking for anything of use. The diary ended on October 17th with what seemed like an unfinished entry:

"Everything I worked for is gone... Amber, Nick, they're both gone out of my life... Could you even call it a life when you're not truly living it? Amber, the love of my 'life', the one she claimed was mine and mine alone has gone off with Nick, my supposed 'closest friend'. It wasn't even either of them that told me. Nobody did - I only found out through a loud conversation between a large group as I walked past...

I could blame myself. I could, but I've already done that for years gone by. No, I think I'll take it out on someone else this time... Too long have I taken crap from everyone else only to punish myself for it.

Now, I only need to think of a-"

Clarissa stared at the pages. There was blood staining the space below the last line. Slowly, she shut the diary and returned it to her pocket. She would have to look at the other entries before she gave it to the forensics for testing.

**End of chapter 12 **


	13. Crimes

**Chapter 13 - Crimes**

After what seemed like an eternity of lying in a hospital bed, Nick was finally able to walk again. His hands were bound tightly by chains that cut into his hands and wrists. A man of gigantic proportions shoved Nick down the hospital corridors, occasionally causing him to slam into walls or floors. Such was the treatment of a death-row prisoner.

As Nick and his tormentor walked towards the entrance to the hospital, he could hear the media being whipped up into a screaming frenzy. He looked towards the deserted reception. A lone telephone was left ringing with nobody there to answer it - everyone had been evacuated because of the murder suspect being relocated. A thin line of blood ran down the corridor in an irregular pattern. Only after the guard had turned him away did it occur to Nick that he himself had created this sick map of where he had been.

The doors slid open as the cameras started flashing. Nick could see his image reflected in the glass wall of the hospital. The time he had spent lying down and doing nothing had taken its toll - his emaciated figure looked as though it could barely support its own weight. His pale face was streaked with blood and framed with broken glasses. The mob was demanding answers from him, but he could only manage to answer with a quiet 'I'm innocent... White will prove you all wrong...'.

The guard pushed Nick into an armoured truck with excessive force. Nick lay on the floor of the truck, too weak to get back up, let alone protest. As the truck began to move, he began to feel increasingly light-headed. He welcomed unconsciousness with open arms.

----------------------

The door to Amber's apartment slammed open after being struck with incredible force.

"You bitch! YOU BITCH!!" Miles screamed as he stormed into the room. He held a gun in his outstretched hand, shaking as he aimed it at Amber's head. She backed into the corner, pleading for her life.

"Miles! What are you doing?!"

"Don't lie to me, Amber... I know what you and Nick didn't want me to!" Amber winced as soon as she heard these words.

"Please... I can ex-"

"SHUT UP!" Miles screamed as he pulled the trigger. Amber slumped to the ground silently. Miles looked at the scene he had created in horror. He had killed his own girlfriend... He began to weep and tried to think of what would happen now. Finding no way to escape from his conscience, he could think of only one option. Slowly, he raised the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

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Clarissa continued to look around Miles Anderson's room as part of the investigation team. She had found nothing of interest in the desk with the exception of the diary. At a loss as to where she should begin searching next, she crashed out on the bed next to her. As she put her weight onto the bed, she felt something dig into her shoulder. Pulling back the covers, she looked in shock at what was hidden beneath them. A black handgun sat between the pillow and the wall. Clarissa picked it up timidly and placed it into a clear container for evidence. For a defence attorney, she was awfully scared of handling weapons.

Deciding to search the rest of the bed, Clarissa found other items stashed away inside. Money, notebooks... Cocaine? Clarissa hurriedly placed the bag of white powder into a box for evidence before someone could jump to the wrong conclusions. A small, torn-open envelope was hidden inside one of the pillowcases. The letter inside appeared to have been written in a rush with red ink:

_"I know what you did. And rest assured I will see to it that you are punished for your sins by paying with your life."_

Disturbed, she kept this in the evidence box. Looking at a death threat to a dead person made her feel inexplicably haunted.

**End of chapter 13 **


	14. Fear

**Chapter 14 - Fear**

_Click._

Tentatively, Miles opened his eyes after pulling the trigger. The scene that would haunt him for the rest of his life remained in front of him. Still shaking, he felt for another bullet to load into the gun. Feeling nothing, he began to be gripped by an even greater panic. Sirens were nearing the apartment at a great speed. Miles could no longer deny what he had done - still holding the pistol in his hand, he ran over to Amber and hugged her. Her brown eyes gazed far off into the distance, refusing to focus on her murderer.

"I'm so sorry..."

Miles cried as he held Amber's cold shoulder, wishing he could take back everything he had said and done. As he heard the sirens draw nearer, he took off Amber's neck chain. Still smeared with blood, he threw it into his bag and ran to the balcony. Clinging onto the fading hope that this was all unreal, Miles looked back at his girlfriend.

"Goodbye, Amber..."

Her eyes continued to stare past him, ignoring his pitiful wishes for her to answer. He turned away and stood on the railing. Closing his eyes, he jumped into the unkempt collection of plants two floors below. He felt a burning pain in his left leg, but the fear of being caught masked the pain. Running away into the shady alleyways of the city, he prayed that nobody would see the bloodstains covering his hands.

----------------------

Marshall sat in his office, procrastinating as usual. Even though he was the executive of Sunlight Pharmaceuticals, he had a lot of free time on his hands in recent weeks. Darke, although he knew how to run both aspects of the business, hadn't been bringing him enough test subjects for the part of the business he liked to control. He had been thinking up experiments to try out on these subjects during this free time - as head scientist of the experimental department, Marshall had to be prepared. Darke always wanted Marshall to try new theories that would help them advance in their profession: biological warfare and cryogenics. However, Marshall also had another role: to hide this side of the company from the public. If they were to find out about this darker side, Darke would be on death row for sure, taking everyone involved with him.

It was late - Marshall had resorted to playing Minesweeper as a way to pass the time without much thought. After failing for the 14th time at expert level, he cursed loudly and closed the source of his anger. He looked at today's news headlines on his homepage: _'Earthquake in Noitaixyphsa', 'Wild Panther found in Cornwall', 'Who do your Bases Really Belong to?'... 'Minerva Hospital - New Evidence'? _Marshall's skin grew increasingly pale as he read the article. The virus, the tag... Darke would kill him if... no, when he found out about this. As he lit another cigarette, he thought about the items and their connections listed in that article. The broken glass had not been linked with anything mentioned... yet.

**End of chapter 14 **


	15. Imprisoned

**Chapter 15 - Imprisoned**

Miles lay on his bed, breathless and shaking. He clutched the handgun tightly, as if he feared that the shadows would attack him at any moment. Every time he tried to draw a breath he felt as though he was inhaling ice, chilling him from the inside and leaving him feeling faint. The pale moonlight burned the image of the bloodstained sheets into Miles' memory, the white cloth smeared with crimson and muddy water. Slowly, he backed into the corner of the room and sat against the walls, motionless.

A sudden ringing echoed through the empty room. Trembling, Miles held the gun at arms length with both hands, aiming it at the blinking light on the phone receiver. The answerphone talked in its emotionless tone, only to suddenly change to an all too familiar speaker.

"Miles, it's Nick... Amber, she's... I... You have to come to the flat, it's... "

The recording trailed off as the speaker broke down into an emotional wreck. Unable to take any more of this torture, Miles screamed and threw the gun at the machine. The sound of metal crashing against the floor told him his aim was true. Sitting alone and defenceless in the darkness, he curled up tightly and stared into nothing, haunted by his own conscience. The bitter taste of tears and blood made him want nothing more than to escape from this shell in which he was imprisoned. Unable to reason with himself, he clutched his head tightly in his hands, his breathing sharp and irregular. The shadows were closing in on him, clouding his vision and stealing what air remained from within him. He finally surrendered to the darkness, granting him a temporary escape from his thoughts.

-----------------------------

Nick was confined in a cold and clinical jail cell. It looked as though it might have once been white, now discoloured and broken through years of neglect and abuse. Still recovering from his transferral from the hospital, he lay on a thin sheet of canvas suspended by two metal rods - the only thing to do in a room as barren as this was to sleep for as much of the day as possible.

As soon as he heard the grinding of the locks opening, Nick sat up in bed and stared at the guard walking through the door.

"You got a visit from your lawyer. Better hurry down to the visiting area - she looks pretty damn stressed." The guard sneered at this last statement. Clearly, he wasn't going to make things any easier for him during this time in prison. Sighing, Nick allowed the guard to place handcuffs over his wrists and lead him towrads the visiting area. If anyone could resurrect the hope of freedom within him, it would be Clarissa, he thought to himself.

-----------------------------

Clarissa sat by the pane of reinforced plastic dividing the room in two. She continued to look through Miles' diary that she had brought with her. Almost all of the pages were stained with blood and torn in places, making some of the text unreadable. Having read all of the entries a number of times, she couldn't help feeling a sense of pity for Miles - he seemed to blame himself for events that were obviously not his fault. This made her more concerned about the last entry remaining in the diary - it seemed uncharacteristic of Miles to act like that, even in writing.

She put the diary back down on the wooden ledge and waited for Nick. She needed answers and he might be the only one able to give them to her.

**End of chapter 15**


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